Capricorn Cove had experienced a renaissance in the last few years, the sleepy town beginning to emerge from its hibernation as people moved in, and businesses finally occupied formerly vacant storefronts.
Change came slowly in the Cove, but Books and Beans had fast become a local institution.
Inside the small café, warm brick walls were complemented by polished concrete floors, long wood benches, and upcycled tables. Bookshelves stuffed with new and used books were scattered throughout the space, inviting diners to peruse as they waited for their order.
I pushed through the door, the bell tinkling cheerfully above my head.
"Hey, Jay. Want your regular?" Betsy called from her position behind the counter. Dressed in a casual blouse and mom-jeans, the older woman didn't look like the kind of person who'd own a hipster joint. And yet, a quick glance around showed a surprising number of tourists enjoying generous meals.
"Actually, I'm meeting someone. Got a table for me?"
She nodded toward the back of the café indicating a table set between the currently empty fireplace and a pair of wall-to-ceiling bookshelves.
"Perfect. Thanks."
I made my way over, calling greetings and stopping for chats with locals. That was the problem with a small town—you knew everyone and everyone knew you.
Everyone, it seemed, except Frankie Kenton.
I settled at the table, anticipation simmering under my skin as I pulled my cell out, swiping to reread her messages.
I still couldn't figure out why she'd piqued my interest. There was nothing profound in her texts. And yet here I sat, waiting for her to arrive, my pulse unsteady, my body on edge.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
"Jay?"
I looked up, my cock immediately hardening.
"Frankie?"
Her pink hair and blue eyes reminded me of the cotton candy I used to buy at the annual fair. The colors had me wondering if the taste of her promised to be as sweet on my tongue.
She grinned, her eyes sparkling as she came toward me, hand outstretched. "The one and only."
I'd have classified her as spun sugar, light and fluffy and extra sweet—if not for her voice. The richness of it forced me to reassess my initial impression—this woman wasn't sugar, she was spice in masquerade.
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